


5:55 am, February 28th...A baby is born

by Fenix21



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Labor and Delivery, M/M, Mpreg, Swearing, dean being schmoopy, long difficult birth, mildly graphic birth, mreg!dean, request fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4326417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenix21/pseuds/Fenix21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean goes into labor and delivers his and Sam's baby girl at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5:55 am, February 28th...A baby is born

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naughtyangelxo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naughtyangelxo/gifts).



> This was written for a request by naughtyangelxo, who asked for a long and difficult home delivery by Dean of his and Sam's little girl, Sara, at a particular time and date. Sorry it took me a little bit, but I hope it fits the bill :)

'Sam, I can't do this…I can't….'

Dean hunched forward on a groan and Sam reached out a firm but gentle hand and stroked down the hard, rounded swell of Dean's belly, feeling the incredible clench and release of the muscles beneath his palm. He urged Dean's thighs a little farther apart and moved in closer to check his progress in bringing their baby into the world.

'Dean, you can. You can, and you are.' Sam reached for his brother's hand and guided it down to hold it against the emerging curve of their baby's skull so that Dean could feel it. 'She's right here, Dean. Right here. A few more pushes and you're going to be holding her in your arms.'

'Sammy, I—' Dean started uncertainly and huffed a pained breath as another contraction started, shifted his grip on the edge of the mattress where he was balanced, thighs spread wide with Sam kneeling on the floor between them.

Sam raised his gaze and met Dean's full on for one intense second and said, 'You got this, big brother. You do.'

Dean stared into Sam's determined eyes for a long second, then sucked in a breath, bore down with all his might, and yelled out loud.

 

_Twenty-two hours and thirteen minutes earlier…_

 

The first thing Dean noticed when he woke up was the smell of bacon and maple syrup wafting up from downstairs, and it made his lips curl in an anticipatory smile. The second thing was an incredible tightening across his midsection that had his smile twisting into something closer to a grimace of pain as he bit down on his bottom lip to stifle a groan of discomfort.

A vague memory of waking sometime before dawn to the sensation of an uncomfortable squeezing around his middle drifted up through his waking haze. He'd pushed the discomfort away, chalked it up to the chili Sam had fixed for dinner, and rolled over and forced himself to go back to sleep.

Now, he lay on his side, stroking a broad palm over his swollen belly and felt a distinct, purposeful tightening in the stretched muscles.

'So, it's gonna be like that, huh?' he said to no one in particular, at least not anyone in the room.

He continued to stroke over the steep curve of his heavily pregnant belly and waited patiently, with his eyes on the clock by the bed, through three more contractions. They weren't really consistent in either strength or timing yet, but that would probably happen soon enough. He sighed and shifted on the bed, hauling himself to the edge so he could get a grip and roll up into a sitting position to get his feet on the floor.

He gasped in shock at the sudden weight and pressure in his pelvis when he finally managed to get upright.

'So, that's what you were doin' last night,' he said softly, again to no one in particular. 'Gettin' all your baggage moved around so you were ready to go, huh?'

He smiled a little wryly and boosted himself gingerly to his feet, lifting against the weighty under-curve of his rounded belly, which was definitely lower this morning than it had been yesterday, with one hand while the other dug strong fingers into the muscles of his lower back that chose that moment to tense up with another contraction.

'Back labor it is then,' he mumbled and put out a hand to the wall to steady  himself against any more unanticipated pains as he made his way to the bathroom.

'Hey? You awake up there?' Sam's voice drifted up the stairs.

Dean let out a slow breath at the end of the contraction and called back, 'Yeah. Be down in a minute.'

By the time Dean got downstairs and waited out another pain in the hallway before going into the kitchen proper of their small home, Sam had two plates set on the breakfast bar with bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, bowls of fresh fruit, and two steaming mugs of fresh coffee. He sat down at the plate closest to him with the dark, black coffee.

'Hungry?' Sam asked as he turned from pouring two large glasses of orange juice and set them on the breakfast bar.

Dean smiled and shook his head in wonderment at the spread before him. 'Wow, Sammy, you're really getting good at this.'

'Well, somebody's got to keep you eating healthy,' Sam smiled, letting his eyes dip to his brother's rounded middle and linger there for just a second. 'Speaking of which, how's our little bumpkin doing this morning?'

'Good, but…' Dean sighed with a slightly forlorn look at his full plate as he gave it a little push away from himself. 'Actually, I think I better pass on breakfast.'

Sam face immediately flooded with concern. 'Why? What's wrong? Are you not feeling well?'

He was halfway around the bar by the time Dean got a hand up to stop him.

'I'm fine, Sam,' Dean assured. 'The baby's fine. I just don't think it'd be a good idea to go through labor on a full stomach.'

Sam stared. 'Go through labor—' His eyes shot wide as the information registered fully. 'Dean! You're in labor?'

Dean shifted on the barstool as another pain chose that moment to ripple across his taut belly. 'Well, having contractions, anyway,' he said.

'Are they regular? How long?' Sam demanded frantically. 'Jesus, Dean! Why don't you tell me these things?'

'Dude!' Dean grabbed at one of Sam's flailing hands, trying hard to keep a straight face at his younger brother's sudden loss of composure that was so stereotypical it was nearly comical, and pinned it firmly over a spot where their baby was starting to give a few restless kicks in objection to the first signs of losing its warm, happy home. 'Just. Relax.'

Sam let out a flustered, irritated breath but stilled as the muscles under his palm rippled noticeably.

'Does it hurt?' he asked a little dumbly.

Dean almost laughed and then shrugged a little. 'It's uncomfortable, but I don't know if I'd say it hurts, yet. At least not by our standards.'

'Yeah, well, it will soon enough,' Sam said, making a move to sweep their plates away. 'So, we should get you upstairs, lying down, nice and comfortable.'

Dean gripped Sam's wrist hard and gave him a stern look. 'Sam, listen to me: I'm. Fine. The baby is fine. I am not spending the next twelve or twenty-four, or however the hell long it takes to pop this little pumpkin out, laying flat on my back with nothing to do but focus on the pain. And _you_ ,' he forced Sam back around the bar and pushed his plate at him, 'are going to sit down and enjoy your damn breakfast.'

'Dean…' Sam whined. 'I can't just sit here and eat while you—'

'Yes, you can,' Dean said firmly and picked up his glass of orange juice. 'I'm going to sit here and sip my juice and coffee, and you're going to eat your breakfast, and nature is going to take its course. Okay?'

Sam gave a helpless, defeated nod, and Dean smiled from behind the rim of his glass when Sam finally picked up his fork and tucked into his eggs.

 

Sam finished his breakfast and cleaned up the kitchen, made another aborted attempt to get Dean back upstairs, and instead ended up in their tiny living room with a copy of some old, dusty grimoire that he had promised Roy a translation or spread across his lap, while Dean sat in the rocker he had been so reluctant to let Sam purchase a few months back but now found one of the most comfortable places in the house to sit.

The television was on but Dean wasn't paying it much more attention than Sam was to the book on his knees. He was focusing on the motion of the rocker and how it helped ease the ever increasing pressure in his pelvis. His lower back was starting to feel like it was in a permanent vice and as calmly as he had assured Sam during breakfast that the 'pain' didn't qualify as pain and was merely uncomfortable, he was quickly being forced to reevaluate that and admit that the uncomfortable, somewhat erratic squeezing around his middle from earlier was starting to get down to business at regular enough intervals and with enough force that it did indeed qualify as pain.

The baby gave a fierce kick just ahead of the beginning of another contraction, and Dean smoothed a hand over the spot, just able to make out the shape of a tiny foot before it receded.

'Hey, sweetheart,' he murmured. 'You're supposed to be resting up. Need all your strength for later, so you quit that, you hear? I know you're nervous, but there's nothing to worry about. Not a thing.'

'Dean?' Sam asked softly. 'Doing okay?'

Dean glanced up, saw the soft sincere look on his brother's face and knew he'd heard the exchange, but it didn't really matter. Of the two of them, Sam was the much bigger sap, and Dean figured if he ever deserved to be allowed to break down a little and get mushy over all this, it was right now, when he and his baby were facing some of the hardest work they would ever have to do together.

'We're fine, Sam,' he replied.

Sam nodded, eyes shifting from dark brown to bright amber-gold as the late morning light coming through the window struck them, and Dean's heart nearly stopped. He'd spent his whole life looking at those eyes, and everyday they still took his breath away. Even now, when he was in labor and the last thing on his mind should be how very beautiful the man sitting across the room from him was, he was still struck almost speechless by the swell of love in his heart at the thought of how much his baby brother had endured in his short life and how much he deserved this respite they were finally going to get and this family they were on the cusp of creating. Dean found himself hoping with all his heart that when their baby was finally born, the very first glimpse of its tiny, fresh gaze would be exactly the same kaleidoscope color as Sam's.

 

The morning hours ticked over into afternoon, and for all his initial nervous bluster, Sam had calmed right down and was sitting quietly over his book, keeping watch over Dean without hovering, letting him deal with his labor in the best way he saw fit because no one knew better than Dean right now what Dean and his baby needed to be comfortable. Sam was at the ready when his services were needed, but until then he would just have to sit and be patient because his big brother was nothing if not stubborn and that included dealing with pain by himself until it had far surpassed the point any other human might be able to stand it. 

Dean's rocking motion had started to pick up a purposeful rhythm not long ago, and his face was a mask of concentration. He had closed his eyes quite a while back, and Sam caught himself completely ignoring the tome perched across his knees in favor of watching Dean's face shift through a myriad of expressions so subtle no one else except Sam would ever be able to see them. Dean was having some internal conversation, either with himself or their baby, and Sam's heart was aching in his chest, wanting to hear whatever was passing between them because, despite the fact that Dean was, beyond any doubt, two-hundred and ten percent in love with the baby inside him just as much as Sam was, he had still spent most of the last nine months holding up his macho front for the world and even his brother to see. 

Dean's hands were cupping the curve of his belly, stroking slow and sure down the sides or over the top every few minutes, and Sam found himself clamping down on the sudden, sharp feeling of anticipation in seeing those same broad, sure hands holding their baby for the very first time with the same strength and comfort they had shown Sam over the years. Holding him, protecting him, saving him. Always. Whether he deserved it or not.

 

It was around five o'clock, when Dean's concentrated rocking motion had abruptly halted on a hissed breath for the third time in fifteen minutes, that Sam turned off the television and put down his book. Dean didn't even notice the absence of noise in the room, and Sam just sat and watched him for a few minutes until his brother's face screwed up in pain and his rocking faltered yet again while a muffled groan escaped him. Sam got up and went to squat down by Dean's knees, reaching out to cover one of his hands that was working a broad circle across his belly. Dean's eyes snapped open and focused on his brother.

'Time to go upstairs?' Sam asked softly.

Dean paused for a long second and then reluctantly nodded and let Sam help him up out of the chair and gratefully leaned on his brother's strong shoulder as they made their slow way up the stairs, stopping twice to let the contractions pass. On the last one, Dean couldn't help letting out a loud moan and clutching hard at Sam's supporting arm.

Sam got them to the bedroom, but Dean stopped short of going over to the bed.

'Just…get it ready,' he said. 'But I'm not lying down…until I have to.'

He pushed the words out past yet another contraction and reached to steady himself on the dresser and focused on keep his breathing under control while Sam reluctantly left him there to get the bed changed and ready.

They had planned on a home birth from the very beginning. It was the only way either of them felt comfortable and could be sure their baby would be safe. As many precautions as they had taken, and as admittedly quiet as it had been over the last months while they extricated themselves from their former lives as Hunters and tried to integrate into 'normal' society, they weren't taking any chances. Heaven and Hell may be too pre-occupied with each other right now to worry about the lives of mortal men, but a Winchester offspring, and of pure blood between the Hunter brothers no less? That was almost too tempting a prize. So the house as a whole was warded within an inch of its life, doubly so was their bedroom where Dean had decided to give birth, and the baby's nursery, too. 

Sam was just fluffing the last stack of pillows on the bed, when Dean groaned again and leaned into the dresser, white-knuckling the edge so hard the wood almost creaked.

'Dean?'

Dean let out a harsh breath. ' 'M fine. I'm fine.'

Sam dropped the pillows and went to Dean's side to support him as he curled farther forward into the pain engulfing him. 'Dean, you don't have to be 'fine.' You're going to exhaust yourself if you keep fighting it like this.'

'Had worse,' Dean said tightly.

Sam gripped his brother's shoulders hard and turned him. 'No, Dean. You've had different, but you haven't had worse. So, if it hurts? That's okay, and you have to let it be okay.'

For a second, Sam thought his words were falling on deaf ears, but then, like they had just been permission enough, the tension bled out of his brother and he leaned to press his forehead against Sam's shoulder, hands tightening on his forearms where they gripped while he let out an honest-to-God gut deep groan of pain.

'Jesus, Sammy…this hurts like a sonofabitch,' Dean finally admitted.

'I can imagine,' Sam sympathized. 'Now, what can I do to help? Tell me how you'll be most comfortable.'

Dean shook his head. 'At this point, I have no idea.'

'Okay, you want to try lying down for a bit?' Sam suggested.

'No,' Dean was quick to respond to that one. 'I don't want to lay down 'till I have to. Baby's gotta come down to come out, right?' He laughed a little but it hitched and got caught as another contraction gripped him.

'We'd probably better start timing those soon,' Sam said.

'Does it…matter?' Dean asked. 'Counting is only going to remind me how slow this is going. She'll come when she's ready.'

'She, huh?' Sam smiled. 'Still sure about that, aren't you?'

'Absolutely,' Dean gritted out through a tight smile.

Early on, Dean had taken it into his head to believe their baby was going to be a girl even though they didn't know for certain, and Sam was fine with that. He already had visions of a little tomboy in pigtails with a greasy smudge on her nose perched on the edge of the Impala's engine bay handing off wrenches to her Papa.

'She's going to be beautiful,' Sam said softly and pressed his palm to Dean's belly.

' 'Course she will be,' Dean said. 'If she'll just…make up her mind to…get here. Jesus!' Dean nearly doubled over with the strength of the contraction, reduced to panting until it passed. 'I gotta move, Sam. The pressure's…too much.'

'Okay, okay. Easy,' Sam murmured and looped an arm around Dean's back and supported his weight while they took a turn around the bedroom and then out into the hallway and back again.

 

They kept up the circuit for nearly an hour, as Dean's contractions got noticeably closer together and more fierce, stopping every few minutes so Dean could breathe through them until one particularly bad one nearly had him on his knees.

Dean got a fraction of a second's warning with the tickle of a thin stream of fluid over his inner thigh before he felt a sudden release that left him gasping and the warm, wet gush of his water breaking.

'Dammit,' he swore at the straw colored puddle spreading at his feet.

'Relax, Dean,' Sam said. 'I'll take care of it. Let's just get you changed, all right?'

They had to stop twice just getting back to the bed and again in trying to get Dean's wet sweats off of him and wait for the contractions to pass, so that he finally gave in with a loud groan,

'Bed, Sam. Time to lay down.'

'You sure you don't want to try the water—?'

'I'm not a fish, Sam…'

Sam lowered Dean to the edge of the bed and helped him lay back in a semi-upright position and then went to clean up the floor.

Dean settled back and tried to focus on his breathing, but the contractions were getting so much worse than he could have imagined and the pressure in his pelvis was immense, making focus on anything except the pain nearly impossible. Another one was already gearing up at the base of his spine and pushing around the sides of his belly toward his navel with such force that it completely took his breath away.

'Jesus… _Christ_!' he huffed out and hunched around his belly, panting with the contraction.

'Dean? Dean, relax. Just relax and breathe,' Sam instructed. When the contraction had passed, he moved to the end of the bed. 'Spread your legs. I need to check you.'

'God, this is humiliating,' Dean groused as Sam took a firm hold on his inner thighs and pressed them apart. He tensed when he felt Sam's long fingers press up inside him.

'Well, I hate to burst your bubble,' Sam said, 'but it's probably going to get worse.' 

'The only thing doing any bursting around here is going to be my belly if this little girl doesn't get her game on and get here soon,' Dean countered.

'Well, you're progressing well at any rate,' Sam said, withdrawing from between Dean's legs. 'I'd say you're at about a seven'

'Wonderful,' Dean bit out and then panted and moaned with another contraction.

 

The hours ticked by through early evening and into late. Dean stalled out around ten o'clock, nearly fully dilated, and made no more progress until after midnight when Sam finally sat back with a victorious smile and declared,

'You're ready, Dean. You're fully dilated.'

'Thank God,' Dean gasped, collapsing into the pillows to try and take a few seconds to get his breath back before the next contraction started.

When it did, he was completely unprepared for the sudden and undeniable urge to start pushing.

'Sam?' he tensed and struggled to get further upright against the pillows. 'Sammy?'

Dean pitched forward, groaning hard and long.

'Dean, breathe,' Sam commanded. 'You've started bearing down. We're on the downhill now.'

'Fuck downhill!' Dean swore and hunched over his hardened belly. ' _You_ try this and tell me it's downhill!'

Dean swore and grunted through a steady onslaught of contractions that never really stopped, just started coming in rolling waves of greater or lesser intensity. He pushed hard with every one, but over an hour later, he was starting to get desperate and panicky, collapsing back into the pillows and shifting restlessly to try and escape the horrible pain and pressure bearing down into his pelvis.

'What the hell, Sam!' Dean demanded. 'Why isn't she coming?'

Sam took a second to check Dean's progress and then picked up the cool, damp towel he had on stand-by and swabbed gently at Dean's sweat drenched face and neck and bare chest.

'She is, Dean. It's just slow going. It doesn't happen all at once.'

'You said I was ready over an hour ago,' Dean argued.

'I said you were fully dilated,' Sam agreed. 'That just meant your body was ready to start pushing. It didn't mean you were going to give birth in the next five minutes.'

'Well, it should,' Dean groused, then sucked in a breath and tried not to tense up as another contraction wrapped around from his lower back. 'Sonofa… _bitch_! Sam, she's right there! Why the hell won't she just…come already?'

Dean reached above his head and gripped the headboard hard, reduced to moaning and twisting his hips off the mattress as the contractions pressed down on his belly, and he could almost literally feel his baby's head sinking lower into his pelvis and spreading him so wide he thought he'd split right up the middle with the next pain. If he really had any extra energy to think about it, he'd probably be mortified at how this one simple biological act was turning him into a whining, begging, blubbering puddle. He'd been to Hell for Chrissakes! He'd been flayed alive and tortured by the master of masters, and yet giving birth to his and Sam's daughter was starting to rank as the single hardest, most painful thing he'd ever done or experienced in his life so far.

'Shh, shhh,' Sam was soothing him, peeling his fingers from the headboard and rubbing the blood flow back into them. 'She is, Dean. She's coming. I promise.'

Dean just nodded, but it wasn't very energetic or confident, and then grunted down into another fierce urge to push and clung to his brother's strong arms.

 

By the time the flat black of pre-dawn darkness had wrapped the world in that special silent stillness that came just before the birth of a new day, Sam had to finally admit to worrying about the impending birth of their own little girl.

Dean was beyond exhausted. The only thing keeping him conscious was years of training and adrenaline. He's been pushing for hours, and while Sam was diligently checking their baby's progress and assuring Dean that she was ready to be born any minute, she was not in fact making any further headway into the world. 

Dean's belly was tight and hard and tense with the unending contractions and his own efforts of bearing down. His thighs, spread wide to welcome the birth of their baby, were shaking under Sam's hands as he massaged them, like he'd run a marathon. Sam was starting to feel uneasy that maybe Dean couldn't do this without some kind of help. Their baby wasn't particularly large, but it was just possible that Dean wasn't built with enough room to let her come down and out unassisted.

Dean groaned at the top of another contraction, face tensing as he bore down hard, back bowing forward, straining with the push as he reached to grasp his knees and haul himself upright in an attempt to get gravity to give him some help. It lasted for a long count of sixty and then he collapsed back, panting, tears trickling from the corners of his eyes.

'Jesus, Sammy…what was I thinking? I can't do this!'

Sam rubbed at Dean's shaking calves and thighs, moved to massage his tense arms and hands, and then let his hands drift to rest over the hard, hard curve of his brother's round belly. He leaned forward and up and pressed a firm kiss to Dean's forehead.

'Yes, you can. I know you can.'

'Sam,' Dean panted, shaking his head. 'I'm wearing out, man. She is, too. I can feel it.' He tensed as the pain started to build again. 'We have to…get this…done…'

He groaned and lurched forward again, grappling for his knees. Sam helped him, taking hold of his elbows and holding him forward for as long as Dean could push, and then let him back down to the pillows slow and easy.

'Dean, I think you're right,' Sam said carefully. 'I think maybe she needs a little help. Let's…see if we can change your position, huh? Maybe that'll do it.'

Dean just nodded, too tired to argue, in too much pain to do anything but trust whatever Sam believed was right at this point.

'See if you can not push with the next couple of contractions, okay?' Sam said. 'Just breathe through them.'

Dean nodded again, and Sam set to rearranging pillows and rolled up towels and blankets toward the end of the bed, then he crawled up beside Dean and looped an arm around his lower back.

'I'm going to lift, you just shift down toward the end of the bed,' Sam said. 'Okay?'

'Yeah,' Dean said tiredly. Anything to get their little girl born, at this point, Dean was willing to try. He swore he could almost feel her strength dwindling and draining away, and it was starting to make him panic. She'd been lodged in her attempts to get through his birth canal for way too long, and he was just short of having Sam call for help when Sam's idea to move him shifted his pelvis in such a way that he felt an amazing and painful rush of pressure between his legs just as Sam was settling him on the very edge of the end of the bed.

'Holy fuck!' he swore fiercely and doubled over his belly. 'Sam!'

'Dean! You all right?' Sam asked a little frantically, sliding down into the floor between his brother's knees.

Dean couldn't answer for a full minute. He just clutched the edge of the mattress and grunted down with the urge to push that was stretching and spreading him in ways he had previously not thought even possible.

'Dean, that's it!' Sam coached. 'That's great! I think we did it. I think she was stuck against your pelvic bone or something, 'cause—'

'She's coming, Sam!' Dean burst out, hunching further forward, pushing even harder with the exponentially increased pressure between his legs. 'Oh. God. _Damn_! Sam, she's comin'!'

'Yeah, she is,' Sam said with a huge grin. 'I can see her.'

 

_5:43 am, February 28_ _ th _ _. In other words…now._

 

Sam pressed and held Dean's hand to the curve of their baby's head as it crowned, stretching him wide and wider still. Dean cried out, yelled at the top of his lungs, struggled to get a better grip on the mattress and gave up, letting Sam's strong arms and shoulders do the work of keeping him in position while he focused all of his attention on the stretch and burn between his thighs and the feel of that tiny skull resting in his palm.

'Push, Dean,' Sam was urging from somewhere far off. 'Push again. Slow and steady.'

Dean found a break in the force of the contraction and pulled in a huge breath and then pushed. He could feel his baby slipping down, inch by slow inch, all the muscles of his belly working to expel her through his birth canal. He bore down long and strong and steady with the push, feeling between his legs as his daughter's head slowly emerged.

'That's it, Dean! Her head's out,' Sam said giddily. 

Dean could feel his brother busy between his legs, doing all the important things that needed to be done at this point, but Dean didn't care about any of it. His daughter's head was cradled in his palm, and in just a few more minutes she was going to be in his arms. He felt another contraction building, a big one, and he tried to straighten, lengthen himself, and tip his pelvis so as to give his baby the straightest possible exit.

'Okay, Dean, this is it,' Sam whispered. Dean felt one of Sam's hands cupping underneath his own, helping him cradle their daughter's head. 'You got this. One more good push, and we've got her.'

Dean felt the pain this time like it was from a distance. His whole body rippled, belly growing so hard and tense with the effort, thighs shaking with the force he was putting on them.

'We can do this, sweetheart,' he breathed, barely audible, as he dialed his focus down into the feel of his little girl's head in his hand, and his heart slowed and paused like in that moment before he pulled the trigger on a sniper rifle, and then he was pushing harder than ever before and his body stretched and stretched and burned and stretched some more, opening up to allow first one shoulder and then the other to emerge into his and Sam's hands.

Dean shouted at the peak of the contraction, and then suddenly felt his insides empty out in a quick rush and release of fluids and pressure.

For one eternal second, the room was silent as a graveyard, and Dean swore he could almost hear the clock as it ticked over to 5:55 am when his bleary eyes chanced to flit over it in his search of Sam's reassuring gaze and the sight he had been waiting nine long months to see.

A shrill, piercing cry cut through the air, so sharp Dean almost flinched, but then he grinned and grinned bigger, and felt huge, wet tears tracking down his cheeks as Sam lifted up on his knees, arms shaking a little as he very gently wiped their baby clean and dry.

'Sam?' Dean choked out.

Sam's gaze lifted and he was crying, too, and smiling like Dean hadn't seen since the kid was…just a kid, years before he'd ever believed that monsters were real or knew anything about Demons and their blood.

'It's a girl, Dean,' he whispered. 'You were right. She's a girl.' Sam carefully wiped at the tiny face and then lifted her up to lay her against Dean's chest. 'Meet your Papa, sweet pea.'

Dean just stared in astonishment as his arms automatically folded around the bundle Sam was offering him and pulled it close to nestle against his chest.

'Hey, little girl. Hey, sweetheart,' he murmured. 'Hey, Sara.'

Sam paused and smiled. 'Guess it's a good thing she's a girl, since we didn't have any boy names picked out, huh?'

Dean continued to grin as he nodded and very carefully poked around the towel until he could find two tiny feet and two tiny hands and count all ten toes and ten fingers there. 'Perfect. Just perfect.'

Sam reached up to stroke one soft, round cheek. 'Yeah, just like her Papa.'

Dean's gaze flicked up. 'Sam…'

Sam shook his head a little and swallowed thickly. 'Dean, don't think for a second I don't realize what it is you've given us, here. Given me. After everything you've done over the years to keep me safe and protected, to take care of me in every way humanly possible, and some that weren't…now, you've given me a family.'

'Sammy, we were always a family,' Dean whispered.

Sam nodded, sniffling a little. 'I know. I know that. You're right. We were. But this…this is so much more than I ever dreamed we'd be able to have, Dean.' He moved in closer, turned so that he could wrap his arms around Dean and their new daughter and press a long, slow kiss to his brother's mouth. 'I love you, Dean. So much. And I love our little girl.'

'Maybe we should have named her 'Samantha' instead, after her Daddy,' Dean teased, but there was no bite in the words, and his eyes were still shining and smiling when Sam looked up at him.

'Shut up…jerk,' 

Dean laughed out loud, planted a kiss on his brother's quirked lips and whispered,

'Bitch.'


End file.
